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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27746098">Guarding Behavior</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypatia/pseuds/hypatia'>hypatia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>James Bond (Craig movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Break Up, Consensual Somnophilia, Established Relationship, Everyone Has Issues, First Date, Incompatible Issues, James Bond Has Issues, M/M, Minor James Bond/Original Character(s), No HEA, Protective James Bond, Q Has Issues (James Bond), Recreational Drug Use, Voyeurism by proxy, is that a thing?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:06:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,153</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27746098</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypatia/pseuds/hypatia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“James. You aren’t my security detail. You’re my dinner date,” said Q, bemused, as he watched Bond scan the entrances again. “Could you please act like it?”</p><p>“Of course, Q, sorry,” said Bond. “Habit.”</p><p>“I understand where it comes from, it just makes me feel like an asset you’re guarding. I already get enough of that..."<br/>--<br/>Even when everyone tries, sometimes things don't work out.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James Bond/Q</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Guarding Behavior</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>"[Guarding behaviors] can be triggered even at a distance. At the strongest level, even a person on the far side of the room can be perceived as a threat to the highly valued food or item ... "<br/><br/>- from a www.whole-dog-journal.com article on resource guarding in dogs<br/></p>
</blockquote>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A Friday evening – Q-Branch</strong>
</p><p>Bond lingered next to Q’s workstation after turning in what remained of his equipment. Q had turned away to refocus on his monitors but looked over his shoulder when he realized the agent was still there.</p><p>“Was there something else 007?” he asked.</p><p>Bond nodded, stepped slightly closer and said in a low voice, “Fancy a drink sometime?”</p><p>Q turned to face Bond and tilted his head, regarding him with an expression that Bond, with all his training in reading people, couldn’t begin to interpret. Q’s eyes traced down Bond’s body and back up, a slow, thorough examination that read as more clinical than sensual. Q tilted his head the other direction and watched as Bond began to feel just the slightest bit uncomfortable with Q’s regard and lost all hope of a ‘yes’.</p><p>“Likely I won’t get out of here until at least 2100 tonight,” said Q finally.</p><p>Bond blinked but recovered. “Yours or mine?” he asked.</p><p>“Yours,” said Q decisively. “I’ll be there at half past or will text you if something breaks here that will keep me.”</p><p>“Let me give you my personal number,” said Bond.</p><p>Now Q smiled, and Bond thought there might have been a hint of mischief in it. “You don’t actually imagine that’s necessary,” he said.</p><p>“I suppose not,” said Bond. “What are you drinking?”</p><p>“Anything with gin,” said Q. “I’m partial to a good martini.”</p><p>“With gin,” said Bond. He knew damn well that Q knew his usual drink order. Hell, Q probably knew his shoe size, his most recent marksmanship score, and frequently his heart rate.</p><p>There was now a definite gleam of mischief in Q’s eyes. “Is that going to be a problem, James?” he asked.</p><p>“No, of course not,” said Bond, trying to remember if Q had ever used his given name before. “No accounting for some people’s taste.”</p><p>“Indeed,” said Q, raising an eyebrow. “I did say yes to your offer after all.”</p><p>Bond grinned at the obvious flirtation. Now he was on more solid ground. “I suppose I’ll have to make certain you don’t regret that.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Q said again. He gave Bond another once over, this one obviously appreciative, “Until tonight then,” he said and turned back once again to his workstation.</p><p>“Tonight,” said Bond. He stared at the back of Q’s head for a beat, then turned on his heel and left Q-branch.</p><p> </p><p>Q arrived precisely on time at Bond’s flat.</p><p>“Still want that martini?” Bond asked as he invited Q in and took his jacket. “I can’t convince you to let me make it properly?”</p><p>Q’s smile was an equal mix of amusement and challenge. “I did ask you to make it properly. With gin. Why? How do you make them?”</p><p>Bond rolled his eyes but reached for the gin.</p><p>They chatted as they sipped their drinks, touching on work and other neutral topics. They avoided personal matters, both out of professional habit and individual preference. It wasn’t as if the words mattered, they simply filled the space while the air grew thick with pleasant anticipatory tension.</p><p>“Can I get you another drink?” asked Bond when Q set aside his glass and leaned back on the sofa to watch Bond.</p><p>“Not necessary, thank you,” said Q. “I have other plans for the rest of the evening I think.” He shifted toward Bond slightly. “Don’t I?”</p><p>“You just might,” said Bond. He leaned in and he let his smile become predatory. “What can I do for—or to you—tonight, Q?”</p><p>Q smiled back. “Let’s keep things simple tonight, get a feel for what we both enjoy. Two things you should know: I don’t fuck on the first date and I will never be interested in anything involving pain.”</p><p>“I can work with that,” said Bond. “And how do you like to be touched?”</p><p>Q smiled, “Come find out.”</p><p>Bond soon learned that gentle touches could make Q shiver and squirm and a more massage-like touch made him melt and purr, his eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure as Bond petted and explored.</p><p>For his part, Q seemed to already know exactly what Bond wanted. Confident and direct, in short order Q had unlocked all of Bond’s secrets. He liked rougher handling than Q: fingernails and teeth and firm pressure but followed by soft kisses and a tongue soothing the sharp edges away.</p><p>“This would be easier in a bed,” Bond suggested a few minutes later against Q’s collarbone.</p><p>“Then by all means, let us adjourn to your bed.”</p><p>Bond led the way and in moments they’d undressed each other and arranged themselves for a more intimate exploration of the other’s desires. Unlike many lovers Bond had had, Q neither shied away from Bond’s scars nor did he pay them undue attention. It surprised Bond, and comforted him, that Q simply accepted it all as Bond, whole.</p><p>For his part, Q discovered in Bond a more generous and perceptive lover than he was accustomed to. It had been some time for him and he allowed himself to shed the professional façade he normally maintained in favor of mutual indulgence.</p><p>They didn’t rush and, in the end, they were both perfectly satisfied.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve had a good time,” said Q, “Thank you.” He stretched, extracted himself from their tangle, and stood up, beginning to gather up his clothing.</p><p>Bond rolled onto his side, ““You could stay,” he coaxed. “I’ll make breakfast.”</p><p>Q had already put on his trousers and was pulling on his shirt. He stopped and regarded Bond with the same dispassionate head tilt he’d used earlier when initially contemplating their assignation.</p><p>“I’d assumed this wasn’t that sort of thing,” he said. “Did we miscommunicate on that?”</p><p>Bond raised an eyebrow. “What sort of thing is this then?” he asked.</p><p>“We had a mutually pleasurable evening after a stressful week on my part and a long mission on yours,” said Q.</p><p>“Ah,” said Bond. “One time thing then?”</p><p>“It needn’t be, but if all you’re offering is a drink and a shag after you finish a mission, you’ll have to forgive me for not expecting more.”</p><p>“That’s unexpectedly transactional,” said Bond.</p><p>Q snorted. “Not at all. I just don’t want you assuming I am any sort of foregone conclusion.”</p><p>“You’ve already made that clear,” said Bond.</p><p>“Did I?” asked Q. He grinned. “Excellent.”</p><p>“I want to get to know you better.”</p><p>“That’s a start,” said Q.</p><p>“Come back to bed?”</p><p>“Not tonight.”</p><p>“Tomorrow then?” asked Bond.</p><p>“I’m busy for the rest of the weekend,” said Q.</p><p>“Then what next?” asked Bond. “How do we get to know each other better?”</p><p>Q thought for a moment. “Lunch the next time you’re at headquarters. Just lunch.”</p><p>“Done.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>The next weekend – Restaurant</strong>
</p><p>“James. You aren’t my security detail. You’re my dinner date,” said Q, bemused, as he watched Bond scan the entrances <em>again</em>. “Could you please act like it?”</p><p>“Of course, Q, sorry,” said Bond. “Habit.”</p><p>“I understand where it comes from, it just makes me feel like an asset you’re guarding. I already get enough of that on the rare occasions I have to travel for work.”</p><p>“And when you travel for pleasure?”</p><p>Q shrugged. “My options for that are somewhat limited.”</p><p><em>Afraid of flying, right, </em>thought Bond, regretting the slip. “Right. I’d love to take you to the countryside some weekend, get away from the city?”</p><p>Q smiled, “If we make it past a couple more dates, that could be lovely. I’d need a few days warning to make sure the branch would be covered and all that.” His expression fell slightly, “I’ll never be able to leave at the drop of a hat you know.”</p><p>“I can work with that,” said Bond.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>A few weeks later – Bond’s flat</strong>
</p><p>Bond caressed Q’s back as the other man lay draped over him, lazily kissing his neck. “Stay for breakfast?”</p><p>“Delighted to,” said Q, his voice was drowsy and content. “That was lovely and I’m going to fall asleep soon.”</p><p>“Excellent, just as I planned,” said Bond.</p><p>Q chuckled. “Knew you’d be good at this. Wasn’t prepared for brilliant.”</p><p>“Oh? Then what made you decide to accept my offer of a drink?” he lightened his touch and made Q shiver.</p><p>Q raised himself up on an elbow and smiled down at Bond. “I was curious,” he said. “I’d heard enough while on comms with you to know you tend to leave partners of any gender quite satisfied. And I’d seen enough of your office trysts to know you’re professional about it.”</p><p>“That latter part is important to you,” Bond observed.</p><p>Q nodded. “My position means I will always be under scrutiny at work. I need to avoid personal complications or the appearance of poor judgment.”</p><p>Bond looked Q in the eye. “I know you’re young for a quartermaster, Q, but you must know by now that you’ve proven yourself. No one questions your abilities. Or your judgment.”</p><p>Q face shuttered for a moment, a blank expression that startled Bond, but Q recovered quickly and his mouth quirked into a mischievous smile. “Thank you, James. I appreciate the vote of confidence but given that you just might <em>be</em> the poor judgment I would be accused of…” he wriggled slightly, which Bond decided felt delightful.</p><p>“Keep doing that and I may not let you fall asleep yet,” said Bond. He lightly touched the back of Q’s neck making him shiver and writhe against him again.</p><p>“’Let’ hmm?” asked Q nuzzling Bond’s jaw.</p><p>Bond moved his hands lower, returning to the soothing caresses that had been lulling Q to sleep earlier. “If you’re up for it,” he said softly.</p><p>Q stretched and relaxed, dropping his head back down to Bond’s shoulder. “Tell you what,” he said, “Keep it gentle and if you can keep me awake, I’m game.”</p><p>“And if I can’t?” asked Bond.</p><p>Q bit Bond’s neck, a gentle scrape of teeth against skin, “In that case,” he said, “I can’t think of a better way to fall asleep.”</p><p>“Really?” asked Bond.</p><p>Q nodded. “To be clear on parameters,” he said after pausing for thought. “This is not an open license, just for tonight and I don’t even know if it will work. But if I fall asleep before you finish, you needn’t stop. Or, if you’re inclined—after I fall asleep—you needn’t let that deter you.” He smiled as he felt Bond’s body respond. “Seems you prefer the latter option?”</p><p>“I admit to being intrigued,” said Bond. “How shall we do this?”</p><p>“Lying here I could fall asleep in short order,” said Q, “But on my side with you behind me seems the best option for not immediately waking me when you move.”</p><p>Bond gently poked Q’s side, eliciting a soft protest, “Is this a ploy to get me to cuddle?”</p><p>Q gave a sleepy laugh. “Is it working?”</p><p>“Perhaps,” said Bond. He rolled them onto their sides, laying Q down with care. Q smiled sleepily and Bond couldn’t resist kissing him. Q let his mouth fall open, letting Bond in, but barely responding, jaw slack, lips soft and yielding. “Roll over now,” he instructed. And when Q had, Bond gathered him close and pulled the blankets over them.</p><p>Q squirmed even closer so that they were skin-to-skin the length of their bodies. Bond’s cock against his arse. He sighed contentedly and Bond felt him relax.</p><p>Bond continued to caress, rocking the two of them gently so that when Q slept, he would be acclimated to the movements Bond made. Q purred in quiet approval, mumbling something Bond didn’t catch. Minutes later, Bond could feel that Q was asleep, his breaths slow and even, his body pliant in Bond’s arms.</p><p>Bond waited, letting Q’s slumber deepen. He groped for and found the lube that had ended up underneath a pillow, touched himself until he was slick and hard, checked that Q was still ready from their earlier activities. When Bond pressed in, Q’s body yielded beautifully. Bond kept his hand on Q’s chest, holding him close, feeling his heartbeat, listening to his breathing. Both were the slow, regular cadence of deep sleep. Bond matched his rhythm to Q’s breath, a slow, gentle slide, achingly good.</p><p>His pleasure built gradually but he was in no rush. Q began making soft noises, breathy moans as Bond stroked into him, but gave no sign of waking. Bond was certain that listening to those sweet sounds was what would eventually tip him over the edge and he was right. His orgasm was luxurious, Q’s body warm and still around him. He caught his breath and sucked a bruise onto Q’s shoulder. Q moaned softly again and then whimpered as Bond pulled out but slept on. Bond cleaned them both up then wrapped himself around Q to try to sleep.</p><p>Early the following morning, he did it again. The sounds Q made in his sleep were even sweeter the second time.</p><p>He woke before Q, showered and dressed in the comfortable clothes he wore for weekend lounging, and set about making the breakfast he’d promised.</p><p>Q was just waking when Bond brought him a cup of tea. “Good morning, did you sleep well?”</p><p>Q, still tousled, naked, and sleepy, smiled up at him and the cup of tea Bond placed on the bedside table. “You tell me.”</p><p>“You did,” said Bond. “That was—memorably good.”</p><p>Q blinked, his expression turning ambivalent, “For one of us at least. Hadn’t thought that through.”</p><p>Bond sat down on the bed, “Is it all right?”</p><p>“I think so,” said Q, “I just hadn’t quite appreciated that if it worked, I might have no memory of it. It’s—slightly disconcerting.”</p><p>“What do you remember, from last night?” Bond reached out and touched Q’s shoulder where he’d left the bruise the night before. Q moved toward Bond, seeking contact, but he was thwarted by the blankets between them. He kicked out of the covers and wrapped himself around Bond who put an arm around him in return.</p><p>“We talked about having sex again,” said Q, leaning into Bond’s touch. “And I offered to let you fuck me even if I couldn’t stay awake for it. I suggested we spoon and you rocked me to sleep. I remember thinking that was quite clever of you, and a pleasant new experience for me. I tried to say so, but I think it came out garbled. And that’s all.”</p><p>“It did, I had no idea what you’d said,” Bond said with a smile, he began caressing Q like he had the night before, relishing the feel of Q’s skin under his hands. “You fell asleep shortly after, I waited several minutes until you would be deeper in the sleep cycle, harder to wake. Your body was so relaxed,” he said, nuzzling the top of Q’s head. “And you made the sweetest noises when I fucked you.” He let his hand skim down to Q’s arse, just a hint of fingernails to make Q shiver.</p><p>Q moaned softly under the touch. “A bit like that,” said Bond. “But softer, breathier.” He lightened his touch, petting circles near Q’s tailbone. Q made another sound. “Yes, that’s it.”</p><p>“James,” said Q on a gasp.</p><p>“Yes Q?”</p><p>“Show me? What you did to me last night?”</p><p>Bond smiled. “After breakfast.” When Q started to protest, he put a finger over his lips. “There’s a frittata in the oven and it will burn if I fuck you right now. Let me go take care of it, have some tea, and after we eat, we have the whole morning for me to demonstrate. Yes?”</p><p>“Please,” said Q.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t believe I slept through that,” said Q, with a rather blissed-out smile. He’d rolled over in Bond’s arms and rested his head on Bond’s shoulder.</p><p>“Mm,” Bond agreed and kissed his forehead. “Twice actually.”</p><p>Q went still, “Hmm,” he said. “That’s—more disconcerting.”</p><p>“Should I not have?” asked Bond. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“No,” said Q, “You were within the parameters we discussed, and I appreciate and prefer that you said so. But as I said, I hadn’t thought through the part where I don’t remember it. My issue, not yours.”</p><p>“You’re sure?” asked Bond.</p><p>“Had an ugly thought, not sure I want to talk about it.”</p><p>“Up to you,” said Bond. He hesitantly pulled Q closer, offering comfort but aware it might not be welcome.</p><p>Q leaned into Bond’s embrace. “If you could do that without my knowledge or memory of it,” he said reluctantly, “It’s possible that… well… that someone else could have too<em>.</em>”</p><p>“Oh,” said Bond. “Is that someone…” he hesitated.</p><p>“Nothing I want to talk about James.”</p><p>Bond nodded. “I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was bring up something painful.”</p><p>Q shook his head. “It’s fine. This was my idea and neither of us could have predicted I’d have this reaction.” He paused. “I suspect it goes without saying, but just to be clear: I don’t want you to do that again without consent sought and granted.”</p><p>Bond met Q’s eyes. “Perfectly clear, Q,” he said. “I recognize the trust it took to allow me that.”</p><p>“Thank you. And now,” said Q firmly. “I’d like you to distract me for a while.”</p><p>“I can do that,” said Bond. He began stroking Q’s back gently, the soft caresses that made him shiver.</p><p>“I’m <em>aware</em>,” said Q, voice heated but muffled against Bond’s neck where he began to kiss.</p><p>“Maybe some time,” said Bond, lowering his voice suggestively, “We can see if I can fuck you to sleep instead.”</p><p>“Mm,” said Q, closing his eyes and shifting still closer to Bond, “I think I might like that very much.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>4 months later – MI6 headquarters</strong>
</p><p>“James, we’ve discussed this. You’re my boyfriend, not my bodyguard.”</p><p>“Sorry Q,” said Bond. “It’s just…”</p><p>“Part of the job, yes. But you need to tone it down.”</p><p>“Q. I’d never forgive myself if I let my guard down because we’re together and then something happened to you.”</p><p>“Or you could accept that, even before we started seeing each other, I occasionally walked into and out of dimly lit parking garages at the end of the workweek in perfect safety.”</p><p>“I suppose you must have,” said Bond with a smirk. “Can’t imagine it. Much too dangerous.” He led Q to his parking spot and opened the car door for him. A small courtesy that Q had never become accustomed to and that charmed him every time.</p><p>“If walking in a fortified parking garage under MI6 headquarters is dangerous, then how do you rate what you do?” asked Q.</p><p>“Bordering on certifiable,” said Bond as they exited the garage and entered London’s Friday evening traffic.</p><p>Their route began with the turns Bond would take if they were headed toward his flat, as they usually did when they both had a weekend and were both in London, but then Bond turned onto a more major road that, if they continued much further, would lead them out of the city. The traffic slowed their progress somewhat but for once Bond didn’t seem to be in a hurry.</p><p>“James? Where are we going?”</p><p>“We’ve been trying to get a weekend away for months and yesterday my missions and your schedule finally gave us this window. I’m taking it.”</p><p>“I told you I need a few days warning before leaving the city,” said Q. His pocket vibrated with a text notification and he took out his phone.</p><p>Bond put a hand on his arm. “Q, it’s fine. I checked with R and she’s happy to manage any crises that arise while we’re away.”</p><p>“R is my subordinate not my superior; she doesn’t have clearance to do that. There are protocols in place. Please just—let’s go to your flat.”</p><p>“It will be fine Q. You need to get away and M won’t mind.”</p><p>“You don’t know that,” said Q stubbornly.</p><p>“Better to ask forgiveness than permission Q,” said Bond.</p><p>Q blew out a breath in frustration. “That works better for you than it would for me,” he said tightly.</p><p>“You keep saying I need to let go of the job when we’re together, but you’re practically tethered to headquarters. It’s one weekend. No one will care.” Bond let go of Q’s arm to shift. Their route had now taken them to the outskirts of London.</p><p>“They will,” said Q. He unlocked his phone and began opening an app but Bond snatched it from him and placed it out of reach. “James. Give me back my phone please.”</p><p>“Q. You need a break. Please just let me give you one.”</p><p>“You don’t understand.”</p><p>“Then explain it to me.”</p><p>“There are protocols…” Q repeated and then his phone began to vibrate with an incoming call.</p><p>Bond picked it up, noted the caller ID, and answered it.</p><p>“Bond,” said Q sharply. “Give me my phone.”</p><p>Bond grinned at Q. “Moneypenny, how are you this evening? … What? No. Q is fine. … Yes, if you say so… Just a weekend jaunt, I’ll have him safely back to HQ Monday morning, rest assured.”</p><p>When Bond didn’t hand over the phone, Q had shaken his head in frustration and rummaged in his laptop bag for a moment, then pulled out an earpiece. He turned it on and hung it over his ear. “Moneypenny,” he said. “Bond is now off the line. I apologize for his… I’m <em>perfectly</em> aware. … He didn’t <em>ask</em>. … Of course not. … Yes, security protocol. … I should bloody well think so. … Yes, I’ll hold.”</p><p>Bond looked at Q. “She knew you were leaving the city?”</p><p>“I’m the quartermaster of MI6. I’m a kidnapping risk.”</p><p>Bond winced. “You wear a tracker.”</p><p>“Obviously. At all times,” said Q. “When our route didn’t take us to an expected location, it would pop a warning and I’m expected to check in—which I was attempting to do—when you grabbed my arm. When I didn’t and it became clear I was being taken out of the city…”</p><p>“It tossed up red flags all the way to M’s office,” finished Bond. “God I’m an idiot.”</p><p>‘Please pull over while I wait to find out what M is going to do.” Bond complied. Q sighed. “If you’d just headed back to your flat when I asked, we could have avoided this. As it is, for all I know they already had a team in pursuit.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” said Bond.</p><p>“Personal complications and the appearance of lapses in judgment,” said Q. “I told you I needed to avoid them.”</p><p>“M will blame me; this wasn’t your fault.”</p><p>Q shrugged angrily. After a moment he said, “I don’t even have a bag packed, what exactly was your plan?”</p><p>“You’ve left a couple changes of clothes at mine, I packed them and some toiletries,” said Bond. Then he lowered his voice, “And I hadn’t necessarily planned to let you out of bed for long.”</p><p>Q snorted, then waved to his ear. “Yes, Moneypenny, I’m here. … Of course,” he said, voice scrupulously bland as he looked over the rim of his glasses at Bond. “We’ll return to headquarters immediately. ETA twenty minutes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well,” said Q as they returned to the parking garage ninety minutes later. “Wasn’t that entertaining.”</p><p>Bond opened the car door for Q in silence. Once he’d started the car, he looked over. “Where to?” he asked.</p><p>“I haven’t had supper. I want to eat, anything will do. Then I want a drink. Or three,” said Q.</p><p>“We can grab takeaway. Am I dropping you at yours?” asked Bond.</p><p>“What? No. You owe me drinks. Multiple. And then you’re going to fuck me until I forget how humiliating the last two hours were.”</p><p>Bond glanced sideways at Q. “If you’re sure that’s what you want.”</p><p>“It is.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>A few weeks later - Mission</strong>
</p><p>“Told you dimly lit parking garages were dangerous,” said Bond over his comm as gunfire sounded in the background.</p><p>“Bond. Please,” said Q. “We both know you’re the most dangerous thing in that garage.”</p><p>“Well, yes,” said Bond, “But modesty forbids that I say it myself.”</p><p>“So now you’re fishing for flattery from me instead of getting on with your mission?”</p><p>“I can multi-task rather effectively.”</p><p>“And there goes the modesty, right on schedule,” said Q. “You on the other hand, are behind schedule, you should have been out of the building forty-five seconds ago.”</p><p>“Working on it,” said Bond, glancing behind himself at a security camera, “Which I’m sure you can plainly see.”</p><p>“I can plainly see your arse,” said Q dryly, “which, while eye-catching, should no longer be visible on any of the cameras I can access.”</p><p>“Patience Q,” said Bond. “You’ll get to see it in person soon enough.”</p><p>“Not if you miss your rendezvous, 007. Get a move on,” said Q. “There are two approaching at your four o’clock.”</p><p>Bond turned and fired, taking out both, then ducked behind a vehicle to reload. “Thank you. Are you still available for dinner tomorrow night when I get back? I was thinking we could go to that little Italian place again.” He began to move, weaving between cars and behind support columns toward the exit.</p><p>“I’d just as soon get takeaway and stay in,” said Q. Then he lowered his voice tantalizingly. “Come over to mine, I’ll welcome you home properly.”</p><p>“That plan has some merit,” said Bond, pleased that Q would be so blatant on an open comm. He fired at the last guard between him and the door. “Garage is clear.”</p><p>“You need to move fast. I won’t have eyes on you again until you get to the pick-up location. From activity on peripheral cameras it appears you’ll encounter some resistance.”</p><p>“I see them, three to the northwest and another two coming from the south, minimal cover.”</p><p>“Copy,” said Q, already anticipating Bond’s next few moves and getting his pick-up in position. And then he waited, pretending there was nothing stressful about listening to his lover get shot at. There was gunfire and the sounds of pursuit and a couple of sounds that Q knew meant Bond had taken a blow—or a bullet—He didn’t know for sure. He couldn’t. He didn’t have eyes there.</p><p>It was over a minute before Bond appeared on a camera again.</p><p>“Is any of that blood yours, 007?” Q asked crisply.</p><p>“Very little,” said Bond. “Dropped the Walther.”</p><p>“And to think I feared you wouldn’t complete the mission in your usual meticulous fashion,” said Q. “Did you at least acquire someone else’s weapon?”</p><p>“Of course Q, what do you take me for?”</p><p>“The only agent in the organization who appears utterly incapable of returning his equipment in one piece.”</p><p>Bond grunted but didn’t say anything as a sleek black sportscar slammed to a stop nearby and the driver leaned over to push the door open for him. Bond climbed in and the car rocketed away. “Thank you,” said Bond to the driver, a handsome man with dark skin and fine features who grinned at him then hit the accelerator. “Bond clear,” he said to Q.</p><p>“Copy,” said Q. “Buy him a drink for me and have a good night. I’ll see you when you’re back in London.”</p><p>“Acknowledged,” said Bond.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Next day – Q’s flat</strong>
</p><p>Q had actually left Q-branch at a normal, civilized hour and had changed into sweatpants and a soft shirt by the time Bond arrived with dinner. He’d picked up Q’s favorite pasta from ‘the little Italian place’ he’d mentioned the previous afternoon. And Q, anticipating this exact plan, had opened a bottle of Chianti and set out two glasses when Bond informed him that he was on his way.</p><p>Q greeted Bond at the door with a kiss and handed him a glass of wine after he’d removed his jacket and tie. They settled on Q’s sofa with their supper.</p><p>Bond nuzzled Q’s shoulder. “Getting domestic on me?”</p><p>Q puffed a laugh. “I wouldn’t say domestic, but I’ll admit to seeking comfort and familiarity tonight. We have very stressful jobs James and having space and time to forget some of that is a welcome relief.”</p><p>“It is,” said Bond and leaned over to kiss Q’s cheek. “It’s good to be back.”</p><p>After they finished eating, they continued sipping wine and Q caught Bond up on office gossip. They ‘talked shop’ for nearly an hour; opened a second bottle of wine.  And eventually made it to Q’s bed.</p><p>They lay on their sides, face-to-face, close but not quite touching. “So,” said Q. “Tell me about Paolo. He looked good on paper.”</p><p>“You mean your monitors,” said Bond. Q smiled and shrugged. “Did his file have just a headshot or did you get to see all of him?”</p><p>“I found a couple pictures elsewhere,” said Q and he licked his lips. “He looked just the choice.”</p><p>“You selected him for my getaway driver?” asked Bond.</p><p>“Yes, James. I staff most of your missions.”</p><p>“And you picked him because you thought I’d want to sleep with him?”</p><p>“Obviously not, he <em>also</em> had to be an excellent driver and at least an adequate shot.”</p><p>“And what would the agency think of you taking that sort of interest in my sex life?” asked Bond. As he spoke the last few words, he trailed a hand down Q’s side and let it rest on his hip.</p><p>Q raised an eyebrow. “James. There’s a modest but thriving economy within MI6 based on audio recordings of your more exciting mission-related sexual encounters and their utility as wank material,” he grinned mischievously. “I have to ensure I get my cut.”</p><p>Bond’s eyes widened. “You’re joking.”</p><p>Q kept his face bland, a slight smile on his lips. He blinked at Bond.</p><p>“You’re not joking,” said Bond.</p><p>Q blinked again.</p><p>“Fuck, I can’t tell if you’re serious,” said Bond. “You’re putting me on. Right?”</p><p>Q maintained a straight face for another second or two, then snickered. “That was much too easy,” he laughed.</p><p>“Wipe that smirk off your face,” said Bond and kissed him. “You’re in a good mood tonight.”</p><p>“I am,” said Q. “We have a weekend free and I’m wine-drunk and well-fed and you,” he poked Bond’s chest, “Have a bedtime story to tell me.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t have expected you to have a cuckold kink,” teased Bond.</p><p>Q snickered again, laughing until he snorted and then got his breath back. “Gods no. Call it—voyeurism by proxy—you had a good time and I want to hear about it.” He wriggled, settling himself more comfortably. “So, I know you didn’t take him to the bar, so I assume you went up to your room and you fixed Paolo a drink there…”</p><p>“I didn’t,” said Bond. “He wasn’t interested in a drink.”</p><p>“No?” asked Q. “Don’t try to tell me you spent the night alone. The hotel security cameras didn’t show him leaving until early the next morning.”</p><p>“Well, I did have a plane to catch,” said Bond. “So that I wouldn’t have to spend <em>this</em> night alone.” He gripped Q’s hip more firmly, rubbing his thumb along the arch of the bone.</p><p>“So. Paolo wasn’t interested in a drink…” prompted Q.</p><p>“He offered me a joint,” said Bond.</p><p>“Ah,” said Q. He ran a finger lightly across Bonds lips. “He <em>did</em> like you.”</p><p>“He liked my eyes,” said Bond.</p><p>“Everyone likes your eyes James. Most of us like your arse. But right now, I want to hear what he thought of your <em>cock</em>.”</p><p>“I’m getting there,” said Bond. He lowered his voice seductively. “We stood on the room’s balcony. Just a little strip of a thing, just enough room for two men to stand—close,” he said. “It was a warm, sultry night and we passed intoxicants to each other by way of lingering touches and meaningful looks.”</p><p>“Mm,” said Q in approval. “You’re so good at this.”</p><p>“It was excellent weed, went to my head immediately,” said Bond. “By the time we’d finished the joint, we were kissing slow and deep. Breathing the smoke from each other’s lungs. Pressed against each other in one corner of the balcony.</p><p>“He smelled like warm spices and crushed leaves. His skin tasted like the ocean. He barely made a sound all night, I had to gauge how I was doing by the way his breath caught, by how he moved or clutched at me when something felt particularly good, when he opened his eyes so very wide and dark, or squeezed them shut.”</p><p>“Did you stay on the balcony?” asked Q.</p><p>“No,” said Bond. “I led him inside to stand beside the bed, started to undress him. He stopped me, eyes bright, told me he’d done this before, but not often. I would have to show him what I wanted.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“He was uncertain, but eager. He fumbled a bit but knew his way around a cock nonetheless.”</p><p>Q smiled, “Most blokes do,” he said dryly. “One at least.”</p><p>Bond laughed softly. “True. But most blokes can’t suck their own. He’d clearly only encountered a couple from that perspective. It made his technique quite different from yours.”</p><p>“Yes, I suppose I’ve had my share,” said Q, voice slightly flat.</p><p>Bond noticed the change. He pulled Q closer and set his lips against Q’s jaw. “I like your technique. I’m not the only one who’s brilliant in bed.”</p><p>“Oh, so you do like me in bed,” said Q, in a flirtatious lilt that invited flattery. “I’d wondered.”</p><p>“In bed is lovely,” said Bond. “On the sofa, enchanting. Against a wall, more intoxicating than Paolo’s weed. In my car, delicious.” He grinned at Q hungrily. “Why haven’t I ever had you at headquarters?”</p><p>Q’s breath caught and his eyes widened.</p><p>“Perhaps in an empty lab, bent over a workbench?” murmured Bond, he caressed Q with the light touches that would make him writhe and eventually plead for more. “Or late at night, when we’re the only ones there, in the middle of the branch in front of all your monitors. Would you like that Q?” Q whimpered, eyelids fluttering. “Maybe I’d pull you into that file room next to Moneypenny’s desk. You’d have to be quiet there, it isn’t sound proofed you know.”</p><p>“Ah, James,” said Q. “Please.”</p><p>“Pick the place Q, and I’ll strip you and touch you until you’re desperate and begging. Next time we’re at headquarters,” he said in low tones against Q’s skin. “Tell me where I can have you.”</p><p>Q pressed himself against Bond but shook his head. “Lovely thought,” he gasped, “Terrible idea.”</p><p>“Where’s your sense of adventure Q?” asked Bond, pulling back to kiss his way down Q’s chest.</p><p>“Mm, fuck that’s good,” said Q. “Remember what I said about comfort and familiarity earlier? My sense of adventure is on hold until further notice.”</p><p>“Pity,” said Bond, as he nuzzled Q’s stomach. “I was going to suggest we break into M’s office. I’d lay you out on his desk, while I sit in his chair with your legs over my shoulders, and lick you open.”</p><p>“Christ Bond, what’s gotten into you?” asked Q.</p><p>Bond chuckled and bit Q’s hipbone gently. “You’re enjoying the fantasy; it’s only encouraging me.”</p><p>Q snickered, then laughed harder as an absurd thought struck him. “Sorry,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath and starting to laugh again.</p><p>Bond moved back up to put an arm around Q and grin down at him. “No idea what’s so amusing,” he said, deadpan. Which only made Q laugh harder.</p><p>Q eventually managed to explain, partially via pantomime, that if they were to actually try that last maneuver, his head would be hanging off the front edge of the desk and if Mallory walked in to discover them, Q’s initial view of M’s look of consternation would be upside down.</p><p>“All right,” chuckled Bond, “That is rather hilarious. And my view, from between your thighs wouldn’t be much less so.”</p><p>“See?” said Q, he continued to chuckle.</p><p>“And now you realize,” said Bond. “We’re both going to picture that, the next time we’re in his office.”</p><p>“Oh God,” said Q, as he tried to suppress a fresh fit of laughter. “You’re right. Fuck.”</p><p>Bond grinned. “If you insist.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Following morning – Q’s flat</strong>
</p><p>“It’s a gorgeous morning,” said Q. “Walk to the coffee shop with me and get pastry?”</p><p>“There may be a crowd on a Saturday morning,” said Bond reluctantly.</p><p>“If we can’t find a table, then we walk back here with our pastry,” said Q.</p><p>“I suppose,” said Bond. “And pastry and coffee does sound good.”</p><p>“Doesn’t it?” said Q, grinning.</p><p>“You’re unusually cheerful this morning,” said Bond, smiling back.</p><p>“Positively ebullient,” said Q. “The sun is shining on a day I have no responsibilities. We had a lovely evening. And if we get there early enough, they may still have some of their fresh black currant danish left.”</p><p>“Then by all means, let us go,” said Bond.</p><p>They walked the few blocks to the shop. Q ignored the way Bond scanned their surroundings for threats. He’d mostly resigned himself to Bond’s quirks by this point and he wasn’t going to let it vex him on a lovely day.</p><p>The coffee shop was bustling with people, a short line at the till and most of the tables occupied. Bond instinctively pulled Q closer to him and put a hand on his back to guide him. “Not my bodyguard,” said Q, sotto voce, he pulled away and noticed the barista, Meg, who he knew slightly from previous visits, observing the interaction. “I can order if you grab us a table. Pain au chocolat and black coffee for you?”</p><p>“Yes, thank you,” said Bond, clearly disappointed by the seating options. The tables with good sightlines to both exits were all taken. He wandered toward one, leaving Q alone at the front of the line.</p><p>“How are you today love?” Meg asked, eyes flicking meaningfully to Bond and back to Q.</p><p>“Just fine,” said Q. He glanced toward Bond and back to Meg. “He—spent some time overseas. Gets a bit jumpy in crowds. We’re fine,” he emphasized the last word.</p><p>She relaxed slightly, “Glad all is well. What can I get you today?”</p><p>Q ordered their pastry and coffee, then glanced toward Bond again. “Better put the pastry in a bag. I don’t think he’s going to find a table to his liking,” he said.</p><p>She nodded. “Of course, love. I know that can be rough.”</p><p>“Thank you,” he said. He watched Bond as he waited for their breakfast. Bond had clearly ruled out any of the empty tables and was hovering near a table he’d apparently decided was more desirable where a couple with empty coffee cups and plates full of crumbs sat chatting. They were quite pointedly ignoring him.</p><p>Q picked up his coffee and the bag of pastry in one hand and Bond’s coffee in the other and headed over. “Back to mine?” he asked with forced cheer as he handed over the beverage.</p><p>“That seems best,” said Bond. “If you don’t mind.”</p><p>“Of course,” said Q.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>A few weeks later – Q-Branch</strong>
</p><p>“Let me take you out tonight Q,” said Bond. “We’ve been doing takeaway practically every time we’ve seen each other for weeks.”</p><p>“If you insist,” said Q with a fond smile.</p><p>“I do,” said Bond. “I’m afraid you’re turning into a homebody; you need to get out more. We can try someplace new.”</p><p>Q realized that idea didn’t appeal at all but couldn’t think why. He shrugged it off and smiled at Bond. “I’ll look forward to it. I should be finished here by 1800.”</p><p>“I’ll meet you here,” said Bond.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>Later that evening – Q’s flat</strong>
</p><p>“Sit down James. We need to talk,” said Q solemnly when they entered his flat.</p><p>Bond’s eyes widened slightly and he took a seat on Q’s sofa. “Do we,” he said warily.</p><p>Q nodded but didn’t look at Bond. Instead he stared at his hands. “This isn’t working any more James. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“I know you think I’m overprotective. And I’m sorry about how I reacted when those dishes broke. I just want you to be safe.”</p><p>“That doesn’t stop the way you’re going about it from feeling overbearing.”</p><p>“Q, I…”</p><p>“I recognize it’s how you’re trained James. I know why you feel you need to do it,” said Q. “I also know it probably isn’t something you can change. If you could, you would have by now. I enjoy being with you, and you’re brilliant in bed, but being out with you makes me feel trapped. It’s worse in places you’re not familiar with, like tonight.</p><p>“I know you’re looking for threats so you can protect me. But from the outside? It looks very—territorial—like you’re trying to keep me from getting away. And it keeps getting more intense.”</p><p>“Please give me a chance to fix this, Q.”</p><p>“James, we’ve talked about this before and I’ve given you chances. This is who you are and I wish I could live with that, but I can’t. I don’t <em>want</em> to do this. But I’m afraid I need to.”</p><p>“Q…”</p><p>“James. The waiter at dinner stopped me on the way back from the loo to ask if I was safe and to give him a sign if I needed help.”</p><p>“Oh,” said Bond, wincing. “God I’m sorry.”</p><p>“And since I can’t exactly tell people who make that assumption the truth? There’s not much I can say in that situation that doesn’t sound like I’m in denial about your behavior.”</p><p>“He wasn’t the first person to make that assumption, was he?” asked Bond quietly.</p><p>Q shook his head. “He’s the first person who has come out and asked directly. But I’ve caught a few—meaningful looks. And when the barista at my coffee shop inquired after my wellbeing, I implied that you have PTSD and that’s why you’re jumpy in crowds.”</p><p>Bond looked at Q. “Is this why we’ve been getting takeaway so often? We’ve been staying in because of my behavior, not because you want to. <em>I’m</em> the one keeping you from going out?”</p><p>“I honestly don’t know,” said Q. “If we have, it wasn’t a conscious choice. I knew I preferred it but wouldn’t—couldn’t—have given that as the reason. Even when you invited me out tonight to ‘someplace new’. It made me uneasy but I didn’t know why. And then our waiter took me aside and it fell into place,” he glanced at Bond. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t be,” said Bond. He paused, then said. “I’ll be—professional—about this of course.”</p><p>“Thank you,” said Q wretchedly. “I think it would be best if you go now.”</p><p>Bond nodded and got up to leave. At the door, he looked back at Q. “I wish this could have worked out,” he said.</p><p>“Me too,” said Q.</p><p>“Goodbye Q.”</p><p>“Goodbye James.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a standalone prequel (of a sort) to another work in process that has Bond and Q, six months post-breakup, working undercover together and continuing to argue about the proper way to make a martini.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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